Me, Myself and the Fellowship
by Normione
Summary: When Stephanie Anie Bowker from Earth get's thrown into the fantasical world of MiddleEarth, the havoc that is caused will changes everyone's life. Especially her's.
1. Chapter 1: Yep, I'm in a Coma

**This is my first attempt at a _Lord of the Rings_ fanfiction. The timeline and such will probably be slightly scewed and I'm going by the movie just because it is easier to follow for those who have not read the books. Thanks alot and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from _Lord of the Rings_. Sorry, I wish I had an elf too.**

**Chapter 1:**

I still don't know how it happened. Even after all these years, the very thought of how I had arrived in this beautiful world leaves me puzzled. I have developed many theories over the years I've been here, but with no way to experiment, it is hard to tell if any may be the answer I seek. Nonetheless, my years as a die hard _Star Trek_ fan were no help to me. I cannot fathom if a break in the "Time Space Continuum" was the case, or if I somehow went dimension hopping through Quantum barriers. Whatever the reason, I am here in a place I always believed to be a fantasy world. A place created in the mind of an ingenious man, but is actually as real as you and I are.

Now, enough of my philosophic prologue, you are here to read the story of the adventure I went through. An adventure that was both voluntary and involuntary. I guess the best place to start, as what is apposite, is at the beginning, for the beginning was a wondrous thing.

I suppose I should have realized that something was terribly wrong when the thunderheads began to develop over my hometown on the shoreline of Connecticut. It probably would have behooved me to have paid attention, but it was summer, thunderstorms were common, and I was late for work. I was more focused on getting ready then what was happening outside, although a thunderstorm at 8 in the morning ought to have set off warning signals in my head. However, as I had said, I was late for work. That was my top priority at that moment.

I was running from my room to the living room, trying to slide on my shoes as I was running (well more like hopping) down the hallway. As soon as they were on, I dashed to the coffee table, snatched up my blue mini ipod, dumping it in my back pack, and spun around to head downstairs and off to work. Unfortunately as I spun, my foot caught on the rug and down I went, just as a bright blue flash erupted before me. The strange thing about that flash was that yes it was outside the house, but it blinded everything before my eyes inside, if you could picture it. I wasn't too focused on it, however, since my mind was more alert on stopping my face from coming in contact with the corner of the end table. I had done it before; not a fun experience.

So there I was, falling to the ground thinking that I was going to be in severe pain in a matter of seconds, when gravity must have decided it liked me. Instead of a hard wooden surface I hit . . . . . nothing. Yea, nothing. Surprised the hell out of me, too. I was just kind off floating there, like a fish in the sea. I opened my eyes and I was met with total, and I mean total darkness. The kind of darkness one experiences when their older brother shoves them into a closet and then proceeds to block up all the cracks.

"What the fu-"

I wasn't even able to finish because, apparently, 'what the fu-' are the words that will reactivate gravity. As soon as I uttered it, light flared before my eyes, blinding me for a moment, and then I was being hurled toward the ground.

Now I will admit, I am a pretty brave person, but heights and falling from them are on the top of the list of things not to do. So when I found myself coming in contact with two of my biggest fears, yea, you could say I freaked out a little . . . . . or a lot. C'mon! If you were in my position, watching the ground rush up to you and thinking that you may or may not survive the nice, cushy impact, I bet you would scream bloody murder too!

Well, lucky for me, physics opted to go on a holiday because as I neared the nice, hard, rocky, tree infested ground, I slowed down in my decent. So, when I did hit, it only knocked the wind out of my instead of breaking every bone in my body. I was a little more than happy.

I pushed myself unto all fours, trying desperately to get sweet oxygen into my lungs when my back pack concluded now was a good time to make its entrance. It hit me squarely on the back of the head, creating a nice rainbow of stars to dance before my eyes. Rubbing the back of my head and cursing everything I could think of, I rolled over and sat up, taking a quick look at my surroundings.

I was sitting in the middle of a dirt road just over the crest of a hill. The sun was shinning, birds were singing in the trees that surrounded the road, it was eerily peaceful.

I squinted, trying to see into the distance so I could discern where I was at, but it was so damn bright I could barely see a thing. I shook my head, trying to clear it, but that only increased the headache I was developing.

I stood up, grabbing my backpack in the process, and was pinching the bridge of my nose to make my headache go away (it never works yet I always do it) when I heard a loud "whoa!" behind me. I spun around, a bad habit since I almost fell again, and came face to face with a horse/mule thingy. Squeaking from fright, I hopped back a few paces and looked past the animal to the man who was controlling it.

He was an old dude, with a long grey beard; grey . . . um . . . robes . . . and a big, grey, pointy hat. Apparently grey was in this season. As I appraised this guy, I swear I thought I had landed in Amish country.

I eyed him apprehensively as he studied me with his piercing blue eyes. I felt as if he was able to read my very soul, a very disconcerting feeling, let me tell you.

"Excuse me," I said as I backed up even more, trying to give him room to go by. No reason not to be polite, but the guy just kept staring at me. "Can I help you with something?"

He shook his head and "harrumphed" a little, then set me with another calculating stare.

"Forgive me. I was just curious as to why a . . . um . . . . young girl," he eyed my jeans and green tank top uneasily while I just crossed my arms. "A young girl would scream as if all manner of disaster had befallen her when nothing seems to be amiss. And why, for that matter, she is alone."

I winced inwardly. How the hell was I gonna get out of this one?

"Well," I started. It was a good place to start. "You see the thing is, um . . . truth be told I'm rather lost."

"You're lost?" He asked.

I nodded my head vigorously. "Yes, I am. No bloody clue where I'm at."

He continued to eye me, as if he believed nothing I was saying. "And what of that scream? Surely you were not trying to attract attention in these parts?"

"Well no, I mean yes, I mean," I sighed. "Look, I have no clue where I am or how I even got here for that matter," Liar! I fell from the sky, but did he need to know that? I think not. "And that scream was nothing more than me seeing a spider."

"A spider?"

"Yes. Nasty little buggers they are," I smiled up at him. All he did was stare at me. Ok, little annoying now.

"And where were you headed before you were lost, Miss . . . ?"

Yea, right. Like I was going to give a complete stranger my name. I shrugged. "To whatever is in front of me."

He gave me a surprised look then frowned, "Where do you hail from then?"

Again I shrugged. "Around," I answered.

"Am I going to get a direct answer from you?"

"Probably not. Look, I don't know you so, please, forgive my lack of detail."

He nodded his head in agreement with me. "You're right. You do not know me. Please forgive my lack of courtesy. I am Gandalf the Grey."

Whoa, wait, what! Did he just say what I think he said?

"C-come again?" I stuttered.

"I am known as Gandalf the Grey."

"Gandalf the Grey?" I choked incredulously. "As in Gandalf the wizard, also known as Mithrandir, also known as Stormcrow, bearer of Narya, servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor? That Gandalf the Grey?"

"Yes," He replied hesitantly, peering at me with caution.

Holy shit! Either I really did hit my head . . . hard, and in a coma somewhere, or I just ended up in Amish country where one of them is a huge fan of LotR and likes to impersonate Gandalf. Someone who really looks like Ian McKellen.

"Where am I?" I breathed aloud.

"Why, you are on the edge of The Shire."

"Shire?"

"Middle Earth." Yep, I'm in a coma.

"Riiiiiight," was the last thing I muttered before my migraine, which is what my headache evolved to, took center stage and I blacked out. I also think shock played a role, but that's just me.

**There you have it, my first chapter. Now please leave a review, if you would be so kind. Thanks alot.**


	2. Chapter 2: A Reality That's Too Real

**Thanks to the two who have reviewed so far, Elondra and Lady Elyn the druid of Serria! On to the next chapter!**

**Chapter 2:**

I awoke sometime later to the bright sunlight of a fall day and the rocking of the wooden cart I was laying in. My headache had dimmed from earlier, but still lingered in the back of my skull. I groaned as I sat up, the blood rushing from my head was not helping matters. Gingerly I reached back and felt the large bump under my dark auburn hair where my pack had hit me.

"Ah, good to see you are awake."

I turned quickly, much to the protest of my head, and saw "Gandalf" driving the cart along the road through what, remarkably, looked like The Shire from the movies. I nodded my head and climbed up to the front of the cart, sitting adjacent to him.

"Where are we?" I inquired as I looked around the area, wincing since the very movements sent fire through my brain.

"Hobbiton. On our way to Bag End where my good friend Bilbo Baggins resides. I'm afraid you were unconscious when his nephew stopped by."

Hobbiton? Bag End? This could not be real. No, wait, it's not. It's a dream. Well, best go along with it. However, I had a hard time silencing the voice in the back of my head, presumably where the pain was, saying, 'If it's a dream, why are you feeling pain?'

I took a deep breath, "Hey, I'm . . . I'm sorry about what happened when I first met you. I don't trust people easily, which leads me to be a bit . . . . . condescending. And thank you, for helping me when I blacked out."

Gandalf looked over to me. "You are very welcome. A wise choice in your trust issue. Trust can be betrayed," he observed as he puffed on his pipe. I hate when people smoke around me, but I tried not to wrinkle my nose, so as not to be rude.

"Yes, that is how I see it, too," I agreed. "My name is Stephanie, but most people just call me Anie."

He cast another glance over to me. "A strange name." Another puff. Ewww. "Well, Stephanie, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He said tipping his hat to me. I smiled.

"You too, Gandalf."

At that point we had reached Bag End and Gandalf was hopping down from the wagon, adjusting his robes in the process. I hopped down as well and walked to where Gandalf was, staring at the house of his friend with soft smile on his lips.

The hobbit hole looked very much the same as it did in the movie, it was a little creepy. The tree growing from the roof was the same, as did the large, green, round door. Even the two foot fence with the sign saying "no admittance except on party business" was the same.

'Wow,' I thought. 'Apparently my mind is a sucker for remembering details.'

Gandalf looked back at me as we walked though the gate into the yard.

"Why don't you stay with the cart?" He suggested.

I opened my mouth to argue, but Gandalf silenced me with this withering look. Jeez, he could patton that look and have every father with a teenage daughter buying for it. I rolled my eyes and turned around, pretty much stomping my way back.

I proceeded to pull myself onto the seat and watched as Gandalf walked up to the door, knocking with the bottom of his staff. From inside the house came the faint yelling of whom, I could only assume, was Mr. Bilbo himself.

"No thank you! We don't need anymore visitors, well-wishers, or distant-relation!"

To which Gandalf fairly laughed out, "And what about very old friends?"

Quickly the door was opened and a man, no more than three and a half feet tall, walked out. You could tell that he was older by far than a lot of the other hobbits I'd seen working in the fields and yards. His hair was a soft grey and he seemed to walk with care. I could tell he had money too from his scarlet vest and dark breeches.

Bilbo walked out, seemingly in a daze as he muttered, "Gandalf?" quietly. It was as if he could not believe his eyes. I knew that look. I was pretty sure I had sported that look a few hours before.

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf drawled as he dropped to his knees to embrace his friend. "Good to see you. 111 years old! Who would believe it?"

Oh, right. Today was Bilbo's and Frodo's birthday. At the realization of this my heart dropped for a fraction of a second when it hit me that I was at the beginning of the story, before the quest to destroy that stupid ring even began. WTF man! Wait, I'm asleep. No worries then! This aught to be fun, if I sleep long enough to enjoy it.

Gandalf and Bilbo talked a little more as Bilbo ushered him in. It was then that Bilbo noticed my presence.

"Why don't you come in too, dear?" He shouted over to me. Shrugging I glanced over to Mr. Greyman who nodded his head in concession. I hopped down and ran over just as Gandalf followed Bilbo in.

"Welcome, welcome." Bilbo fairly shouted.

Both Gandalf and I had to stoop down to step into the hobbit hole.

"Oh, here we are," Bilbo continued. "Tea? Or something maybe a little stronger?" He took Gandalf's hat and staff, placing against the far wall. He then hurried down the hall, to what I can only assume as the kitchen, shouting as he went, "I've got a few bottles of the old Winyard left. 1296. Very good year. Nearly as old as I am. It was laid down by my father. What say we open one, eh?"

"Just tea, thank you," Gandalf answered. That was fine with me. I was starving and wine on an empty stomach was not a very good idea. I turned and ducked my head so that I may enter the parlor without another concussion, at which point I heard Gandalf's head come in contact with the same thing I avoided. Man, I think being smart and short.

I chuckled to myself as Gandalf stepped in, rubbing his head I noted. Both he and I took a quick look around at the various papers and maps that were scattered about. Apparently hobbits were not organized little creatures. I sat down in one of the chairs that wasn't covered and pulled up one of the maps to look at. Bilbo kept chatting away, but I stopped paying attention. I already knew what he was saying, having listened to it a thousand times before.

Gandalf placed whatever he was looking at down and followed the path Bilbo had taken just as the little hobbit entered from another door, saying something about making eggs. He looked at me confused, probably thinking where Gandalf had gone.

The wizard then appeared behind the hobbit, again asking only for tea.

I stood up and followed the guys into the kitchen asking for something to eat. I hadn't eaten all day, so I was a bit famished.

"Oh dear," Bilbo clucked as he turned to look at me. "What would you like?"

"Anything you have will be fine with me," I smiled to him. He nodded and set about looking for something. Gandalf looked back at me and gave me, yep; you guessed it, another of his looks. This one was saying 'that was rude to ask for that.'

"What?" I asked innocently. "It's true, I haven't eaten all day. Besides, he was offering." I pointed out. Gandalf just shook his head.

I placed the map I was looking at back on the table, then went and sat down in the kitchen, where Bilbo gave me some sponge cake. Not a fan, but food is food is food.

I began to eat when all of a sudden Bilbo threw himself flat against the wall as banging was heard on the front door. He actually looked kind of stricken.

"I'm not at home," he whispered urgently to us. The pounding on the door continued along with shouts of "Bilbo Baggins!" and "I know you're in there!" It took a lot of will power not to start laughing. I had always found this scene comical.

Bilbo crept softly to the window subsequently looking out, trying to see who was there.

"It's the Sackville-Baggines," he spat. "They're after the house. They've never forgiven me for living this long. I've got to get away from these confounded relatives, hanging on the bell all day. Never giving me a moment's peace!"

He crept back into the kitchen, looking out of its windows.

"I want to see mountains again. Mountains, Gandalf! And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book. Oh, tea," Bilbo seemed to have realized and hurried to pour the boiling water into the kettle.

"So you mean to go through with your plan?" Gandalf asked. Bilbo made a quick look to me and I gave him a sign that I'd stay quiet.

"Yes, yes. It's all in hand. All the arrangements are made."

"Frodo suspects something," Gandalf commented.

"Of course he does. He's a Baggins!" Bilbo exclaimed with pride. "Not some blockheaded Bracegirdle from Hardbottle." Now say that three times fast.

"You will tell him, won't you?" Gandalf insisted.

"Yes, yes," Bilbo dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"He's very fond of you."

"I know. He'd probably come with me if I asked him," Bilbo murmured as he walked to the window again.

I finished my cake and pushed my plate away, not wanting to disrupt the scene.

"I think in his heart, Frodo is still in love with The Shire. The woods, the fields. Little rivers." I could see Bilbo's hand slip into his pocket, no doubt caressing the Ring. "I feel thin. Sort of stretched like butter scrapped over too much bread." Leave it to a hobbit to compare something to food. "I need a holiday. A very long holiday and I don't suspect I shall return. In fact, I mean not to," the old hobbit finished firmly.

I raised my eyebrows in the serenity of that statement and peered over to Gandalf. He did not look entirely too pleased with Bilbo's convection. Seeing this as a good time to bow out, I rose from my chair, gaining the attention of both hobbit and wizard.

"If you'll excuse me, thank you Mr. Baggins for the cake. It was very much appreciated. I'm going to wait for you by the cart Gandalf. When you're ready." I smiled and bowed my head to them and left the hobbit hole.

As I sat on the cart and waited for Gandalf, my thoughts strayed to how the hell I got in this predicament. But most importantly how I was going to get home. For, you see, my mind had finally registered that, were I in a dream, I would not have been hungry, I would not have felt the pain in my head, and in fact I wouldn't have felt anything at all. Yet I did. I could feel the wood board under me, the wind on my face and the ground under my feet. I was really in The Shire. I couldn't figure it out but my dream of the story had become my reality. A reality that was all too real for my tastes.


	3. Chapter 3: Party Time!

**Chapter 3:**

Bilbo's birthday party was bigger than anything they tried to demonstrate in the movie, or even the book for that matter. There were at least 1500 hobbits wandering around from all over The Shire, and more kept pouring in. And boy, could they drink. One hobbit, I noted, went back to the barrel no less then ten times, and he was fine! I've known people who were completely wasted after only three beers. Where all the alcohol went in their systems, God only knew.

Anyway, after the meeting with Bilbo, he cordially invited me to his birthday celebration that night. It was very nice of him, although I had to bite my tongue before I told him that I was going to show up anyway. No need to throw away a nice invitation.

So there I was, manning Gandalf's cart while he set of the nice explosives for the little children. I think he could tell I was a wee bit of a pyro because he kept me, the fireworks, and the ability to light the fireworks far away from each other.

I was sitting there, enjoying watching the hobbits enjoy themselves when I heard a rustling behind me. Frowning, I jumped down from the seat of the cart and hid behind the front of it. Sure enough, Merry and Pippin snuck out of the tent that was next to us and hopped into the back where all the fireworks were stationed. I could hear Merry whispering urgently to Pippin, "No, no, the big one!"

I knew what was going to transpire. Far be it of me to stop the boys from having their fun, so I just allowed (yes, allowed. They were going to get what was coming to them anyway) them to take the awesome dragon firework; the one I really wanted to set off. I took cover under the wagon as the boys scurried away, anticipating the shouts and screams that were going to happen. They didn't let me down. No more than thirty seconds later, up went the tent, flattening a very sooty Merry and Pippin, and down came the red dragon of fire.

I must say, given the need, hobbits are pretty fast little buggers. Everyone scattered. Some fell over tables, some were running in circles screaming (I think they were the ones who had more than their share of ale), and some just took cover, like I had done.

As soon as I saw the dragon pass, I crawled out of my hiding space, dirtying my jeans in the process, and watched the spectacular fireworks display. I must hand it to Gandalf; he can definitely create amazing fireworks.

I turned around after the last flare died, anticipating some more entertainment in the form of a Merry/Pippin smack down, when I saw a very irate Gandalf heading towards me.

Now let me warn you now, a pissed off wizard is not someone you really want to mess with. Before he could even reach me I hastily pointed to Merry and Pippin, who had smug little smiles on their faces as they stared up at the sky, and practically shouted, "It was them! I had _nothing_ to do with it!" I emphasized 'nothing,' just so he could get the hint. He didn't.

"Really?" Uh-oh, never good. "And were you not suppose to be watching the fireworks? Making sure no one had access to them?"

"I . . . um . . . maybe?" I laughed nervously.

Gandalf just glared at me then subsequently walked over to where Merry and Pippin were standing, grabbing them both by the ears. He proceeded to drag them over to where I was and in a voice that left no room for argument said, "Come with me. Now."

Sadly for my pride, I followed Gandalf, with two protesting hobbit at his side, like a dog with its tail between its legs. He led us over to the washing tent and sent us to work washing every single cup, plate, and spoon that was used. It wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't sitting there, smoking his pipe, acting very pleased with himself. Stupid wizard.

"This is all your fault, you know?" I scolded Merry and Pippin when I turned my attention back to them.

"Our fault?" Pippin proclaimed.

"Yes, your fault," I repeated as I handed Merry a now clean up to dry off. "If you two hadn't of stolen and set off that firework, we wouldn't be here."

"Yes, but did Gandalf not say that you were the one who was suppose to be watching them?" Merry piped up.

"So, in a way, this is your fault. You never stopped us," Pippin practically beamed to me. I just sent a death glared at him.

"Admit it. You wanted to set that dragon off too. I can see it in your eyes." Merry smirked with Pippin nodding behind him.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. "Alright, maybe a little." I consented. "But guys got to it before I could."

They both laughed and we started talking, planning various pranks we could pull when we got out. Thus my friendship with Merry and Pippin began.

As the night progressed, Gandalf finally let us leave, feeling we had learned our lesson, just as everyone started shouting at Bilbo for a speech. I groaned inwardly and turned away, heading back for the cart. I remembered that this was the part where Bilbo would put on the ring and disappear. Since I was not a fan of speeches, as casually as I could, I snuck away from the party and headed up the hill to Bag End. Why miss an important scene?

I hung around a little ways off until I saw the fence and door opened and closed on their own accord. Show time. I walked over the gate and waited there until I saw Gandalf come tearing up the road.

He was a bit surprised when he saw me, but all I did was pointed towards the house. He nodded and proceeded to enter the house with me hot on his heels.

Gandalf was hanging there, leaning against the wall, when Bilbo appeared from the back of the house.

"I suppose you think that was terribly clever," he admonished. Bilbo jumped, having not seen Gandalf, or I, since I was standing a little behind Gandalf.

"Come on Gandalf. Did you see their faces?" Bilbo joked. "Hello Anie." I just smiled and nodded my head in acknowledgement.

"There are many magic rings in this world, and none of them should be used lightly," Gandalf continued. It was surprising how much Gandalf was like my grandfather. Both are very patronizing.

Bilbo turned around. "It was just a bit of fun. Oh your probably right, as usual." He added scornfully as he went to the mantle, grabbing his pipe. "You will keep an eye on Frodo, won't you?"

"Two eyes, as often as I can spare them."

"Good, I'm leaving everything to him."

"What about this ring of yours?" I piped up before Gandalf. Why not add my contribution?

Bilbo made a surprised glance at me, while Gandalf just glared over his shoulder.

"Yes, yes. It's in an envelope over there on the mantle piece." Liar, it's in your pocket. "No, wait, it's here in my pocket." Ah! See. I like being right.

Bilbo pulled the ring out of his pocket and everything seemed to get heavier and darker. He, Bilbo, then started to go into what I call his 'crazy Gollum phase.'

He started mumbling to himself. Something about keeping it. His back was to us so it was hard to tell.

"I think you should leave the ring behind," Gandalf said as he approached Bilbo. "Is that so hard?"

"Well no and yesss." Man did he sound like a snake. "Now that it comes to it, I don't feel like parting with it. It's mine. I found it! It came to me!" Ok . . . a bit possessive are we?

"There's no need to get angry," Gandalf replied calmly.

"Well, if I'm angry it's your fault!" And your how old? "It's mine. My own. My precious." See, he is Gollum.

"Precious?" Something seemed to have clicked in Gandalf's head. "It's been called that before, but not by you."

Well now, Mr. Bilbo decided that it was a good time to throw a tantrum. "What business is it of yours what I do with my own things?!" He shouted as he turned around.

"I think you've had that ring long enough."

"You want it for yourself!" Yep. Maturity dropped to that of a five year old.

"BILBO BAGGINS!"

Oh crap. Scary wizard mode. Ducking out I hid in the entry way, listening to Gandalf's rage.

"Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks. I am not trying to rob you!"

I peeked in as Gandalf deflated.

"I'm trying to help you."

Awwww and now their hugging. Sweet.

"All your long years, we've been friends. Trust me as you once did. Let it go."

Wow, you'd think Bilbo was on drugs or something.

"You're right Gandalf. The Ring must go to Frodo." Finally! Was that so hard?

"It's late and the road is long," Bilbo said as he picked up his pack. "yes, it is time."

He went and opened the door, then, just as he went to step out, was stopped by Gandalf. The Ring was still in his pocket. Bilbo pulled gold band out and stared at it for a few seconds, probably debating if he could run. Deciding that it was not worth it, he dropped the Ring onto the ground, and set out with Gandalf following behind him. I walked forward and stared down at the Ring, letting the guys say their good-byes.

How could such a little trinket cause so much destruction? I reached down, to pick it up, but some sort of spark erupted from the end of my fingers. I recoiled my hand quickly, checking it to see if there was any damage. There was none, much to my relief. OK, don't touch the ring. Got it.

I walked in to the parlor and sat down near the fire. Although it was only early fall, I was still in a tank top, meaning my arms were a little chilly. I waited for Gandalf, who, right on schedule, entered the house and looked down at the Ring. He, too, tried to pick it up and recoiled just the same.

"Apparently it wants neither you nor I to touch it," I said. Gandalf walked over to where I was sitting, pulling a chair along behind him. I will admit I've not seen Gandalf this weary in the beginning of the story.

"You tried to pick it up?" He asked me.

"Yea, 'tried' being the operative word. I barely got near it before it sent up warning signals."

He nodded his head and sat down, pulling out his pipe and his . . . um . . . weed.

"You ok Gandalf?" I looked at him questionably, but nothing was forth coming. "Gandalf?"

"Yes, child, I am fine. Merely a weary old man after a very long day." He mumbled as he stretched.

I shook my head, not believing him for an instant. "Yea right, and I'm the pope." I just got a blank look. "Never mind. You're worried about Bilbo's ring, aren't you?"

"That is not something you need to concern yourself with, Anie." He told me firmly.

"Kinda can't help it," I shrugged.

"Do not worry yourself," he explained with what I can only assume was a reassuring smile. "It is probably nothing." He waited a few minutes then asked, "Stephanie. It that your full name?"

Um. . . . wtf? "No, it's not."

"What is?" He turned his attention to me.

"Stephanie Bowker," I confessed.

"Strange names. I've not heard the like anywhere in this realm. Where are you from again?"

"I told you, around."

"Surely you can now be a bit more specific then that?" Ha! Yea right. You probably wouldn't believe me if I tried. I kept silent, hoping he would get the hint. He did. Good wizard.

"Fine then, how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"You're awfully young to be out adventuring on your own."

"What is this, twenty questions?" I barked. "Yes, I am out on my own, but it was not by choice." At that I stopped, since I had said to much, and turned away. Gandalf asked to me to continue, but I merely shook my head.

Lucky for me, Frodo showed up, running into the hobbit hole, yelling for Bilbo. As he entered, Frodo glanced down and saw the Ring. Following both Gandalf and I, he reached down, but he was able to pick it up. He then looked to where we were sitting.

"He's gone, hasn't he?" Frodo inquired sadly. "He talked for so long about leaving. I didn't think he'd really do it."

Frodo walked over, ignoring me, he turned to Gandalf, who had been unresponsive to his little speech.

"Gandalf?" At this, Gandalf glanced to Frodo's hand, which held the Ring, then up to Frodo himself.

"Bilbo's Ring," he smiled. Creepy. "He's gone to stay with the Elves. He's left you Bag End." Gandalf held out the envelope, to which Frodo placed the Ring then went about sealing it with wax while a confused Frodo looked on. I was just kind of hanging back, watching everything unfold. I did not want to disrupt things too much.

"Along with all of his possessions. The Ring is yours now. Put it somewhere out of sight." Gandalf warned. After he jumped up and started rushing about with Frodo and me on his heels.

"Where are you going?" Frodo exclaimed.

"There are some things I need to see to."

"What things?" Frodo asked again.

"Questions, Questions that need answered."

"But we just got here, Gandalf," Can't let Frodo have all the fun.

"I don't understand," Frodo voiced as Gandalf rushed, or tired to rush out the door. At those words from him, Gandalf stopped and turned back to us.

"Neither do I." He then proceeded to walked back over to us saying, "Keep it secret, keep it safe."

"But Gandalf, what about me?!" I asked hurriedly, before he could leave. Seemingly to realize I was still there, Gandalf glanced back at us.

"Anie, stay with Frodo. He'll take care of you till I return." Then he was gone before I could utter one word about dumping responsibilities on other people.

Frodo help up the envelope and gaped at it, confused, I might add.

"Listen, Frodo," I began as he peered up to me. I felt tall, it was weird. "I'm sorry about Gandalf forcing me on you. If it's a problem, I can gladly take a room at the inn. . ."

"Oh no, it's quite alright. There's a spare bedroom that Gandalf usually uses that you may stay in." Wow, his eyes are really blue.

"Are you sure?" I muttered awkwardly. "I don't want to be a nuisance."

"Honestly, it's fine if you stay. With Bilbo gone, this house is going to be awfully quiet. It'll be good to have another body here." Awww, sweet.

"Here, follow me," he directed, gesturing me to the back of the house. "I'll take you to your room."

It was a quant enough room, sparsely furnished. There was quilted bed, a desk and chair made of a dark wood, bookshelf, and a small chest. The room was a bit short by my standards, but I could stand up straight in it. I bid Frodo a good night, and as he left, shutting the door behind him, I saw my backpack was sitting on the chair by the desk. I smiled despite being so far from home and alone. Good ol' Gandalf.


	4. Chapter 4: the Ring is Found

**I want to thank everyone who has reviewed my story so far, you have no idea how much reviews make my crappy day not so crappy. I don't know when I'll be back on this story since my muse has moved onto something else, but as soon as I can lasso it in, I will be providing another chapter. Thank you ahead of time for your patients**

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**Chapter 4:** **The Ring is Found**

After the abrupt departure of Gandalf, life in the Shire went back to normal, or as normal as it could be with me there. For the first few months the hobbits were hesitant of me. They would shy away when I went into the center of town, and send suspicious glances at me, no doubt they trusted me little. As time progressed their hesitation turned to fascination after they learned the odd jobs I could do. They were amazed that I could reach higher into the apple trees and cut the wheat faster and farther then they could. I soon became one to hire for odd jobs that needed my "advantage." Mostly I worked in the _Green Dragon_, but the other jobs helped me to get out during the day.

Living in the Shire was pretty boring actually, now that I think back on it all. In books, we, the readers, were always able to read past the boring parts and skip to the action. I unfortunately had to live it. My life became a constant routine day after day. I'd wake up, usually around dawn (I had an east facing window with crappy curtains), then I would get up and dress in breeches and a tunic that was especially made for me. I didn't like to wear the clothes I came in, since they were one of the only pieces of home I had left. I had told Frodo of my being "lost" and he gladly contributed to help me as much as he could. He soon became a dear friend of mine, as did Sam.

The rest of my day was spent helping Frodo or some of the other hobbit around town. Sam especially liked me to help him when he found I had love of gardening. I also took time during the day to read up on the history of Middle-Earth or whatever book I could get my hands on. As I said before I had read a few of the _Lord of the Rings_ books, but never intensely studied them. My peaceful existence in the Shire allowed me to do that.

Night would more often than not find me helping Rosie; you know the hobbit that Sam was all twitterpatted for, at the _Green Dragon._ Rambunctious/drunk hobbits are pretty funny creatures. They're all happy drunks too, which made my life easier.

I found myself one night humming to one of Merry's and Pippin's drinking songs as I stood behind the bar, cleaning and refilling the mugs of ale. Their voices echoed off the walls of the lively tavern as other hobbits joined into their singing;

_"Hey oh to the Pub I go, to heal my heart and down my woe. Rain may fall and wind may blow, but there still be many miles to go. Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain and the stream that flows from hill to plain. Better than rain or rippling brook . . . ."_

"_Is mug of beer in side this Took!_" Pippin ended triumphantly as cheers erupted all around him. I laughed along with everyone else then continued working until Rosie let me off as Sam and Frodo were heading home.

"Mind who your sweet talking," Sam grumbled as an overly drunk hobbit decided to play Romeo to Rosie as we were all leaving. I just chuckled and skipped ahead of the boys thinking that this event seemed very familiar but I couldn't quite place where.

The three of us meandered our way home. Frodo and I said good-bye to Sam at his hobbit hole and continued on up to Bag End in comfortable silence. Frodo entered into the house first, but stopped in the entryway, looking around at the darkened house. I entered after, stooping down under the doorway. The house had this eerie feel to it with the papers blowing about and the deadly silence, like some kind of horror film. I'm surprised creepy organ music hadn't begun to filter through.

I brushed past Frodo and walked over to start a fire in the hearth, hoping to dispel the frightening darkness that had us both on edge. Frodo started walking toward the back of the house when a hand reached out from the shadows, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. He let out a cry and I screamed when Gandalf's head appeared in the light. I quickly got down and lit the fire; bring its glow and warmth into the house as Frodo walked over to the chest in the corner, pulling the envelope that contained the Ring from its depths.

Gandalf was a wee bit jumpy during this time, flinching and spinning around at the smallest noise. I walked over and plopped down in a chair as he snatched the envelope from Frodo's outstretched hands, throwing it into the fire. Frodo went to protest, but I just shushed him, advising him to trust in Gandalf. He nodded his head reluctantly and watched when Gandalf took a pair of thongs and brought the Ring from the fire.

"Hold out your hand, Frodo," Gandalf asked the bewildered hobbit. "It's quite cool."

Frodo did as he was told. He recoiled his hand slightly as the gold band touched his flesh, but was confused, I could see that the Ring was as Gandalf said.

I sat back in the chair, trying to ease the tension from between my shoulder blades from Gandalf popping out of the shadows like the monkey wizard he is. I glanced out of the window my chair was by and noticed a certain gardening hobbit sneaking over to the window. I smirked and turned back to the conversation at hand. Frodo was turning the Ring over and over, examining it.

"Nothing, there's nothing," He said to the back of Gandalf, who was currently watching the night. Gandalf relaxed briefly until Frodo muttered, "Wait. There are markings. It's some form of Elvish, I can't read it."

"That's because it isn't Elvish, it's Mordorian," I muttered. Gandalf glanced down to me then turned to Frodo.

"There are few that can. The language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here."

Didn't I just say that?

"Mordor?!" Frodo exclaimed.

"In common tongue it says. . ."

" 'One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, One ring to bring them and in the darkness bind them.'" I interrupted, sitting forward in my chair. The two of them had spun and looked at me as I gave the translation. Neither knew of the knowledge that I had, and I was planning to keep it that way. . . .sort of.

"How do you know that?" Frodo asked.

I shrugged, and then pushed myself out of the chair, "Lucky guess?" They didn't believe me.

"How much do you know?" Gandalf asked.

"Enough. Look this is the One Ring," I reasoned, gesturing to Frodo's hand. Both he and Gandalf looked down upon it in wonderment. Rolling my eyes I took Frodo by the shoulders and led him into the kitchen, forcing him to plop down in a seat while I went about making tea. Gandalf followed us and saw the lapse of time as a good moment to continue what I started.

"As Stephanie said, this is the One Ring, forged by the Dark Lord Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom."

"Name is very apropos." I shuttered thinking of the movie's image of it.

Gandalf continued on, ignoring me. "Take by Isildur from the hand of Sauron himself."

I nodded as I poured the hot water into the kettle. "Bilbo found it, in Gollum's cave when he went adventuring."

"Yes, you are quite right," Gandalf remarked. Frodo was shocked that the One Ring was right here on the table. "For 60 years the Ring lay quiet in Bilbo's keeping, prolonging his life, delaying old age, but no longer. Evil is stirring in Mordor. The Ring has heard its master's call."

We all looked to the Ring as strange muttering was heard from it.

"Why didn't you tell me if you knew?" Frodo asked me. He seemed almost hurt by my lack of information.

"It wasn't my place. Fate works in a certain way, I wasn't going to intervene. I'm sorry but I just couldn't," I added sincerely. "This isn't good, is it Gandalf?"

"No, I'm afraid it's not."

"But he was destroyed. Sauron was destroyed," Frodo insisted.

"He wasn't completely." Both hobbit and wizard turned to me. "Sauron's life is connected to the fate of the Ring. As long as it exists, he will never be completely gone. Kind of like the Energizer Bunny. Just keeps going and going and going and. . . ." They just blinked at me. "Never mind," I sighed.

"I think what Stephanie is trying to say," Gandalf went on. "Is that the Spirit of Sauron endured. His life force is bound to the Ring, and the Ring survived."

Do I hear an echo?

"Sauron has returned. His orcs have multiplied. His fortress at Barad-dur is rebuilt in the lands of Mordor. Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all the lands in a second darkness. He is seeking it. All of his thoughts are bent on it, for the Ring yearns above all else to return to the hand of its master."

"They are one, the Ring and the Dark Lord . . . . Like Voldemort and Harry and the horcrux . . . . . but you have no idea what I'm talking about so I'm going to shut up now." I added when I was met with blank looks . . . again. Ok, I need to watch my references. "Let's just say that we don't want Sauron to find it."

"Alright," Frodo said, picking the Ring off of the table and hurrying out of the kitchen. "We'll put it away. We keep it hidden. We will never speak of it again. No one knows that it is here, do they?" He was met with silence. Frodo turned around and almost desperately asked, "Do they Gandalf?"

Um . . . I'll take that as a no.

"There was one other that knew Bilbo had the Ring. I look everywhere for the creature Gollum, but the enemy found him first. I don't know how long they tortured him, but amidst the endless screams and inane babble, they discerned two words. . ."

"Shire and Baggins!" I exclaimed, remembering what was coming after us. An image of the wraiths entered my head and I shuttered involuntarily.

"But that would lead them here!" Frodo shouted using the same tone as me. My eyes widened at the knowledge of the threat and my heart started to thud painfully in my chest. I rushed past the hobbit and wizard, down the hallway to my room. Last I heard Frodo was trying to offer the Ring to Gandalf.

As I threw the door open I dropped to my knees and reached under the bed, pulling my backpack from its depths. Racing around the room I hurled my clothes, books, and other possessions I had gathered throughout my time on to the bed, then began stuffing the objects into the bag. Zipping it shut, I snatched my cloak off of the hook on the back of the door and dashed out of the room, turning back only briefly to make sure I got everything. I knew I wasn't coming back.

I entered the parlor, fastening my cloak as I went, and watched as Gandalf hurled in a very frightened Samwise Gamgee.

"Confound it all, Samwise Gamgee! Have you been eavesdropping?" Gandalf shouted.

"I haven't been dropping no eaves, sir. Honest. I was cutting the grass under the window there, if you follow me," a startled Sam squeaked out. I almost felt sorry for him.

"A little late for trimming the verge, don't you think?" Gandalf asked, placing his hands on his hips. I walked up behind Frodo, who gave me a sympathetic smile.

"I heard raised voices," Sam continued.

"What did you hear? Speak!" Gandalf demanded.

"N-nothing important," He stuttered. "That is I heard a great deal about a ring, a Dark Lord, and something about the end of the world, but please Mr. Gandalf, sir. Don't hurt me. Don't turn me into anything . . . . unnatural." Sam ended weakly, frightened for his hobbitness.

I snorted at Sam's statement. For some reason an image of him as a frog, hopping around, popped into my mind.

"No?" Gandalf glanced up at Frodo and me, amusement evident in his crystal eyes. "Perhaps not. I've thought of a better use for you."

Sam swallowed visibly, fearing what Gandalf had in store for him. I stepped up quickly, brushing past Frodo, and stood in front of Gandalf.

"I'm coming too," I insisted quickly.

"What? Stephanie, I don't believe . . ." Gandalf began, looking down at me.

"I'm coming," I persisted firmly. I glared up at him, matching my stubbornness to his own.

"Yes, Gandalf let her come. She may be able to help."

Thank you, Frodo! Gandalf, however, didn't look too convinced.

"Besides, the servants of Sauron are coming. We cannot allow her to face them alone or at all. Who knows what they would do to her to find out where the Ring is."

Wow, never thought of that. I just wanted to go on the adventure, like I had always dreamed about. Meeting Mr. Dementors hadn't even crossed my mind. Smart hobbit.

Gandalf took a hard look at me and nodded in agreement. "No, you're right. It would not do to let Stephanie face those creatures. You will come with us, as will you Mr. Gamgee. Now, let us go."

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As always, reviews much appreciated! 


	5. Chapter 5: The Elves

**A/N: I'm really, really, really sorry that I haven't updated this story in what seems like forever. My muse totally left and I've been trying to reign it back it, however, it's been mostly unsuccessful. I perfectly understand if you all want to flail my hide. Even though I'm posting this chapter, I don't know how long it will be until I post a new one, so I ask for your immense patience with me as I try to rack my brain and get the ideas floating around my head down on paper. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please review. It would be very much appreciated and I will work as hard as possible on the next chapter when time and life decide to grant me a reprieve.**

**_Disclaimer: I think we've figured out that I own nothing to do with the Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would actually have money for college._**

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Chapter 5: The Elves**

The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon as Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, and I made our way through the sleeping Hobbiton. Gandalf hurried along leading his large chestnut horse with Frodo and me walking a few paces after. Sam was trailing further behind us since he was carrying more then Frodo and I combined.

"Come along, Samwise. Keep up," Gandalf shouted back to Sam who was trying to hurry along as fast as he could. The poor hobbit. Apparently Gandalf's 'better use' was as a pack mule. That's what you get for dropping your eaves.

Soon after, we left the village behind us, entering a secluded forest on the perimeter of the town. The leaves and branches seemed to foretell something ominous as they stretched outward, blocking the rays of the rising sun. Gandalf stopped us after we had walked only a few hundred feet into the forest's depths.

"Be careful, all of you!" He warned. "The enemy has many spies in his service: Birds, Beasts"

"Oh, so he's the Beastmaster?" I uttered sarcastically. Gandalf glared over the top of the heads of the hobbits at me. "Sorry."

He turned to look at Frodo. "Is it safe?"

Frodo placed his hand over his breast pocket in his brown vest just as Gandalf kneeled down to eye level.

"Never put it on of the agents of the Dark Lord are drawn to its power. Always remember, Frodo, the Ring is trying to get back to its master. It **_wants _**to be found."

He patted Frodo on the shoulder when the hobbit nodded. Standing up he glanced quickly at Sam and I then leaped onto his horse.

"Gandalf, wait!" I shouted before he could gallop off. I ran up to the side of the horse, gazing up at the wizard above me, my amber eyes locking with his blue. "Look, um, be careful alright. Not everything is what it seems. Not everyone can be . . . trusted." Wow is that cliché.

His face held a look of puzzlement for a fraction of a second before he smiled reassuringly and patted the top of my head in an almost grandfatherly way. I . . . um . . . think.

"Do not worry, I will be quite safe," he tried to reassure. "Watch over Frodo and Sam. Protect them if you can. I know you have more then a vague idea of what is after them. Be sure that they make it to Bree safely. I will meet you there."

_Sorry to burst your bubble, but you're gonna have a hell of a time with the Dumbledore wanna-be._

I nodded and stepped back, letting him gallop away. "I promise," I muttered into the wind and I meant it.

Quickly I turned to the frightened looking hobbits, plastering a smile on my face as if this would be a stroll in the park.

"Shall we?" I asked as I walked forward and took the pack from Sam's shoulder, dropping my lighter backpack in his arms.

"What are you doing, Miss Anie?" He asked bewildered.

"I'm helping you. My pack is lighter so you carry that and I'll carry this."

"You don't have to do that," he tried to reason.

"Yes I do. Don't worry, I used to go hiking all the time back home and had to carry packs that weighed like this, sometimes more."

He opened his mouth to argue some more but I tried one of my "Gandalf" looks on him and it worked. Hmm, I could have some fun with this.

"Let's get moving, alright?" I said strapping the pack on. They both nodded and with one last look at where Gandalf disappeared, started forward towards Bree.

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Move we did, very well in fact. We walked, and walked, and walked, and walked. For hours on end we walked. Over hills, through trees, across rivers, up cliffs, we walked them all. It was as beautiful as it was boring. After the first hour, the trill of walking wore off when my feet started to hurt and my back began to cramp.

To pass the time, I took out my ipod and skipped along to whatever song was playing. The music helped to give me energy, and reminded me of home. Subconsciously I stopped, thinking about my life before the Shire. I really missed it back in Connecticut; back on Earth even. My life wasn't that bad, if fact it was pretty good. I got A's and B's in school; I got along fine with my family; I had a bunch of friends and had a life. I never really wanted to leave it, but apparently fate had other ideas. Why did it send me here anyway? Am I supposed to stop something, help something?

Oh, you're probably wondering how my ipod could work? Random I know, but you have either already realized this or went "Yea" when I said it. Well, it's a bit weird to understand. It hasn't died; in fact the battery hasn't even gone down. It is in the exact same spot where it was when I came here. I don't know why, but I'm not about to complain. My music is my life.

"You alright, Miss Anie?" Sam asked.

I shook my head, bringing me back to reality and answered, "Yea, Sam, I'm fine."

We continued onward through the rest of the day, the sun rising higher above our heads. About midday, Frodo, Sam and I were crossing through a barley field, heading toward a corn field. We had all shed out cloaks, the fall sun warming our skin as the last remnants of summer tried to hold on with an iron grip. Frodo and I had walked ahead, unbeknownst to us that Sam had stopped at the edge of the barley field.

"This is it," he said, looking up and down at an invisible barrier. Frodo and I both stopped, turning back slightly to stare at Sam peculiarly. Well, Frodo as perplexed, I knew exactly what Sam was going on about.

"If I take one more step, it will be the farthest from home I've ever been."

"That makes two of us, Sam," I muttered. Frodo glanced back at me, not quite sure what he should do. I shrugged and waved my hand, telling Frodo to walk back to Sam.

"Come on, Sam," Frodo encouraged, wrapping his arm around Sam's shoulders and gentle pulling him that imperative step.

"That's one small step for hobbit!" I shouted as they walked closer. "One giant leap for hobbit kind."

Both Sam and Frodo gave me strange looks as they approached, but laughed all the same.

"You are a strange one, Miss Anie. No doubt about that," Sam said, shaking his head.

I laughed as I plowed my way through the dense cornstalks. "Yea, but just think of how boring I'd be if I weren't like this." One stupid stock decided to snap back and hit me in the nose as I tried to walk between it and its neighbor. "Flipping A!" I shouted, brushing the thing aside and rubbing my sore appendage.

"You sure have made life interesting in the Sire," Frodo imputed, trying in vain to contain his laughter at my attack from the cornstalk of doom.

"Aye, that I have," I answered quietly as Frodo began to speak.

"Remember what Bilbo used to say, Sam? 'It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet—"

"There's no know where you might be swept off to," I ended, smiling to the hobbits over my shoulder.

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We continued onward the rest of the day, stopping under a large, gnarled tree as the sun began to fall below the horizon. Quickly we set up camp; I got a fire going while Sam cooked the food. Frodo climbed into the branches of the tree, laying back and smoking his pipe as he gazed at the stars shining brilliantly above us.

Within minutes I was bored, so I rustled around in my bag until I had my sketch book and a few drawing pencils out, and then began a few rough sketches of the area around us. Although I had my camera, it was far more personal and sentimental capturing the images by drawing than just pushing a button.

We sat that way for a while, lost in our own heads and thoughts when an unearthly sound began to permeate the area around us, faintly at first and then growing in volume and pitch. I paused in the middle of my sketch and glanced up, straining to hear from which direction the eerie music was coming from. It was more beautiful than anything I had ever heard before. I could almost feel the notes wash over my in a gentle wave as my skin prickled with goosebumps.

Frodo had heard it too. He sat up quickly, twisting his head back and forth as he tried to listen to the music and understand where it was coming from.

"Sam, Anie," he said, bringing Sam's attention to the sounds. "Wood-elves," he smiled.

"I vote checking out where that music is coming from," I voiced, turning my eyes between Sam and Frodo.

Frodo jumped down from the tree, nodding enthusiastically as Sam pulled the pan off the fire, also agreeing with me. Quickly, we scurried up the slope we were camped under, brushing our way through the thick underbrush until we hid behind a fallen log at the top of the hill. The leaves of the bushes were blowing in the breeze as we peeked over the rotting wood, the sight we beheld robbing our bodies of breath.

A caravan of elves was gliding their way through the woods, the glow from their ethereal bodies illuminating the forest around us. Some were on beautiful white horses while others walked on their own, many carrying banners. They continued to sing as they walked. It was the most majestic, the most beautiful and the most terrifying sight I have ever seen.

"Holy cow," I muttered, roaming my eyes from one end of the caravan to the other.

"They're going to the harbor beyond the White Towers. To the Grey Havens," Frodo whispered, unable to tear his gaze away.

"They're leaving Middle Earth," I whispered sadly as Sam responded louder.

"Never to return," Frodo added.

"I don't know why," Sam remarked. "It makes me sad."

I nodded, watching as the silvery blue of the dresses and cloaks floated in the air like the fragile wings of a fairy. "Me too."

We continued our watching of the great first people for only another few minutes. Sam and Frodo decided to head back to camp, but something kept me rooted to the spot, my gaze unwavering as I stared unblinkingly outwards.

"Aren't you coming back, Miss Anie?" Sam asked as he turned to leave.

"Yea, I'll be there in a minute," I replied, glancing backward for a moment before I returned to gazing forward.

"Leave her be, Sam," I heard Frodo say behind me. The scuffling of feet sounded behind me as the guys headed down the embankment and I was left alone.

The music grew stronger as the silence of the forest closed in around me. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why the haunting image of the elves rooted me to the spot. Maybe it was because they were leaving to go home and I had been so rudely uprooted from mine. Maybe it was the fact that I didn't even have a home in Middle-Earth and couldn't tell yet if I ever would.

Whatever the reason, tears dotted my eyes and then sprinkled down my cheeks to the point where I either had to leave, or burst unto tears. Reluctantly I stood and turned to head back to the camp. However, a blurred image caught the corner of my eye and I turned looked back to see a pale-haired elf with eyes darker than the green leaves that dotted the trees stop and regard me in the waning light of dusk. We stared at one another for what felt like a millennium before he smiled and dipped his head to me as if saying good bye, raising his arm in the gesture of farewell. I smiled and returned the motion, my tears still leaving pale streaks, before I turned and stumbled my way back to camp.

By the time I staggered my way into camp, Sam and Frodo had already rolled out their bedrolls and were trying to sleep on the very uncomfortable and uneven ground. Seeing no need to stay up any longer, I quickly got ready for bed and laid down as well, turning this way and that in hopes that I would find a position that wouldn't leave me screaming in the morning. Closing my eyes, I tried to sleep — trying being the operative word since sleep was not happening anytime soon.

The ground was sharp, hard and knarled with twisting roots and embedded rocks. Also, the image of the elf's farewell to me would not allow my mind to rest like it so desperately need. Add in the fact that Sam was complaining and there were all sorts of fun happening here.

"Everywhere I lie," Sam complained in frustration. "There's a dirty great root sticking into my back." He shifted around again, wriggling around in a way only a hobbit could.

"Just close your eyes," Frodo responded sleepily. "And imagine you're back in your own bed with a soft mattress and a lovely feather pillow." One could almost believe that and I did. Almost.

Sam shifted and wriggled a bit more, trying to place himself just as Frodo said. For a few blessed moments, only the sounds of the forest permeated the air until. . . .

"It's not working Mr. Frodo. I'm never going to be able to sleep out here."

Sighing in my own frustration and growled, "and neither will I if you don't stop complaining. Just relax."

I closed my eyes and pictured myself back home in America, in my bed, surrounded by my awards and pictures with my family in just the other room while ever so slowly drifting off to sleep.

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**Liked it, hated it? Let me know and Like I said before, will work as diligently as possible on the next chapter.**


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